


Blood and Bones

by kiyyeisanerd



Category: Homestuck
Genre: (Cronus is in it for one sec and then he dies), (If youre in the cronus tag this is not the fic for you), Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Bloating, Burping, Dirk drinks a whole dude and jake is like wow HOT, Horror, Inflation, Kind of to the tune of What We Do In The Shadows, M/M, Murder, Online Dating, Stuffing, Vampire Bites, Violence, liquid inflation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:47:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22961179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyyeisanerd/pseuds/kiyyeisanerd
Summary: Dirk is a newly-turned vampire looking for love. Jake is a primordial death creature who collects bones. They meet on a monster dating website and hit it off great.The question is, what happens when you try to drink a whole person in front of your hot date? Hint: you get very full very fast.(Liquid bloat and belly rubs fic featuring reprehensible but endearing monster boys!)
Relationships: Jake English/Dirk Strider
Comments: 7
Kudos: 49





	Blood and Bones

**Author's Note:**

> Pure kink fic, pretty gorey/murdery this time around, but all as a backdrop for the stuffed tummy. Not your kink, don't read! You can find a full list of warnings in the endnotes as always :D

“So, you eat bones?” you ask?

“No! Gosh, I don't eat them. That would be awfully hard on the ol’ chompers.”

You sit across a coffee table from a tall man wearing far too much khaki. He's your date for the rest of the evening—assuming things go well and you don't pack your shit up and head home. You met the guy on an alternative dating website for… “arcane human subspecies,” you believe it said.

“Monsters” is what it meant.

Sketchy hell of a website, really. Sure, most monsters are old as balls, but even a vampire could take an online graphic design course. That being said, after 6 years and counting of lonely homosexual desperation, you figured you'd give it a shot and set up a profile.

You're new to the whole vampire thing. You’re extremely young for one of your kind, it seems. But a twenty-first century man has standards—maybe _some_ vampires can stand to wait centuries in an old castle waiting for love to stumble in through two huge creaking doors, but you have an asshole that demands loosening.

So, you matched with this guy Jake on the dating website. Most of the other profiles were idiot humans marked as “witches interested in otherworldly love,” likely to get themselves killed. Jake’s species designation read “The Keeper Of Bones ;)” which at least sounded interesting, if not totally legit.

Two days later and you find yourself in his house, staring across the table at a dude who looks just _off_ enough to pass for a non-human entity.

“You don't eat the bones,” you repeat.

“I certainly do not. I mean, you can see them,” he says, gesturing around the room. “All intact.”

Sure enough, you notice now the row of skulls on his mantle; the arm-bones which make up the frames around his film memorabilia; the femur propped casually against his wall. Funny that the decor didn't alarm you when you came in. Maybe that's one of his powers, like a sort of Jedi mind trick. Or maybe you're just stupid.

“So you just collect them? Keep them?”

“Essentially,” he replies, cheery. “I mean, I need them, obviously. I'm not just a weirdo who likes bones.”

“What… do you need them for, exactly?”

“Ah, how to explain,” he sighs, propping one foot up on the coffee table. “You're a vampire, right?”

“Indeed.”

“So you're allergic to sunlight, yes?”

You shrug. “I wouldn't say allergic, but yeah.”

“Well, see, that’s sort of how I am about _life_. Living things. Things with souls and metabolisms, growing things, changing things, et cetera. I'm terribly allergic.”

“Wow, damn. Can you ever go outside?”

“Yes,” he nods, “with some preparation. It's not such an instantaneous effect like with vampires and sun. More like a slow poison. And I can fight that poison, luckily, with bones!” he smiles proudly. “They're like a cleansing agent. I've got a nice necklace of 'em which lets me go out and about most places, so long as I come home to recharge.”

“That certainly is something. I've never heard of a being like you. I mean, vampires, we’re practically famous, but ‘Bone Keepers’?”

“Mhm. There aren't very many of us. In fact I might be the only one with such a particular affinity for bones as opposed to other dead paraphernalia. The trouble is we don't fit into many human supernatural categories, so we tend to get overlooked. Mislabeled as ‘demons’ often. And, of course, most of us live underground in cemeteries. For obvious reasons.”

“What exactly are you, though? If that's not rude to ask.”

“Not rude at all! Sadly, I don't have a nice clean answer. Let's just say I'm a tiny manifestation of a great power, one which I am not bound to serve but which supports me like an overbearing parent.”

“Why do you choose to live up here instead of underground in a cemetery? Sorry I'm—sort of grilling you, I'm just curious.”

“It's no trouble. Honestly, I just like movies and comics too much. When humans invented moving pictures… oh, they're so much closer to the real thing than books!”

“Right,” you nod, laughing a little. For a creature called a ‘Bone Keeper’ this guy could be a lot more terrible. He's kinda sweet.

“Do a lot of vampires live in areas like this, now?” he asks. “I was under the impression you mostly did old castles and mausoleums, but that was a long time ago.”

“Eh. It's a little bit of both. I've actually only been a vampire for 6 years, so I'm just living in the same apartment I owned before.”

Jake’s eyebrows shoot up. “Only 6 years! Gosh golly, you're a young one.”

“Yeah. I mean, I'm thirty five now. But I guess that's young for your standards.”

“Oh yes. I've been kicking in some capacity ever since the first life showed up on this planet.”

You shiver a little, involuntarily. That's fucking _old._

“I've only been a guy named Jake who collects bones for a few odd centuries, though,” he adds. “I've been other things. A great serpent of shadow, an amorphous dark presence, a cold temple in the desert.”

“Wow. Sounds like you've been around the block.”

“You could say that!” he laughs.

You talk with him a while longer about various monster-related topics. He's done you the favor of procuring a wine glass full of blood, which is very much appreciated. After 6 years as a vampire you are slowly losing hold of your qualms about ethically sourced blood—you used to be so squeamish, so concerned with the morality of shit like stealing from blood banks, but now…

Let's just say a few coworkers have gotten on your nerves recently, and they will no longer be employed at your office.

You down the last sip from your glass, licking your lips. “Hey, this was fantastic. Where'd you get it?” you ask. To hell with ethics, you're curious.

“Nabbed it from my most recent catch. I try to take all the blood out before I get to the bones. As I'm sure you can imagine, blood doesn’t exactly agree with me.”

“Oh. If you're allergic to it, you really didn't have to go through the trouble of getting me some.”

“No, no! It’s perfectly fine once it's out of a body, all packaged up nice and clean. It just stings a little bit straight from the vein. Means I usually have to wear gloves when I'm working, since I can never seem to extract all of the damn stuff successfully.”

You hum, thinking, swirling your empty glass around absentmindedly. An idea starts to form. “What do you use to extract it?”

Jake looks dumbfounded. “I dunno. Some old medical tool. Found it in a hospital basement back in ‘46. It's been a trusty piece of equipment.”

“So… would it be weird if I said I had an idea for our second date?”

Jake perks up, seeming absolutely starstruck about the fact that you want to go on a second date. You explain your ingenious idea:

“So, you need bodies without blood in them. I like to drain blood out of bodies. If we tag-team it, we could get a lot more bang for our buck.”

“You're a clever-sharp one, you are!” Jake beams, delighted. “Why I've never heard such a splendid idea!”

“Yeah, thanks, I'll be here all day.” After a confused look from Jake you add, “That was a joke. A comedy joke.”

“Oh, yes. I'm not great with those. Anywho, how’s next Tuesday sound?”

“Sounds great to me. And you’ll provide the sustenance? Or should we go hunting for someone together?”

“I'll pick someone out,” he grins.

* * *

You arrive next Tuesday at Jake’s house and ring his doorbell. You're dressed in an old, dark button-down; you wanted to at least look nice, but you anticipate getting blood all over your clothes, so best not to ruin anything you care about.

Jake answers the door. “Come on in, my distinguished guest,” he says, beaming.

With his invitation, you pass into the house. “Got the human here already?”

“Oh yes. He's a tall one, and a real asshole. I'll be glad to be rid of him. Works at the diner down the street and made fun of my accent once!”

“Mm. An unpardonable offense.”

“Exactly!” Jake leads you through the hall toward the sitting room—you assume the guy is maybe tied to a chair or something convenient. Before you enter the room, you pause to huddle with Jake.

“So, does he know what’s coming for him already? Like, is he restrained?”

“Oh,” Jake laughs, “not in the least bit. I simply invited him over and stuck him on the couch. I can get some rope if you'd prefer it?”

“No, that won't be necessary. I’ll just hold him. How do you usually… do these things? Do you like to get it over with quick, or do you like to play it seductive?”

“I _love_ to play it seductive.”

You nod your agreement and proceed into the room. The guy on the couch turns his head to look at you, slinging an arm over the back cushion.

“Finally,” he says in a terrible, cocky, faux-travolta kind of voice. “I was gettin’ cold over here.”

Jake sits in the chair opposite the couch and you slide right on in next to the guy, getting up close and personal with his gelled hair.

“Meet my friend here, a mister Dirk Strider. He's going to take good care of you,” Jake says, and leans back in his chair as if to watch.

“Well well,” mutters the guy, waggling his eyebrows. “Are you picking up what I'm putting down?”

“You wear such strong cologne,” you say, leaning in to put a hand on his shoulder and press your nose to his neck.

He shivers from arousal. “Thanks, babe,” he whispers, one hand slowly moving up your thigh.

You're already bored. It is at this point that you decide to bite the guy.

Biting humans takes practice. It's taken you all 6 of your vampire years to learn how to do it right. For the first few, killing people was off limits. Now, not so much. But even when you made it past the ethical hurtle, there were technical difficulties.

See, there’s a lot of shit in a human neck, most of it not suitable for biting. The jugular vein, for example, will kill someone instantly—but it will also explode in your fucking face and greatly hinder your ability to enjoy your meal. You could always go for another spot, maybe inside the elbow or on the wrist, but the neck works best when done right. There's a smaller artery, the external carotid, which you want to hit.

Thankfully, you hit it. The travolta-looking guy cries out in pain and tries to shove you off, but of course his strength is nothing compared to yours. It's a lovely, clean incision; you start gulping him down like it ain't no thang.

You're still not quite used to this part. That feeling of someone writhing around beneath you, gasping and gurgling, slowly blacking out and ceasing to move—it’s not your favorite experience. The blood, though. The blood is amazing. Vampirism does something to your taste buds, because what used to taste like coppery bullshit now tastes like the fucking elixir of the gods. Nothing compares to fresh, warm blood straight from some unsuspecting shithead’s neck, and that’s all there is to say about that. You hold travolta-guy’s head in place with both hands, sucking mercilessly despite his fading whimpers.

Now, you’re a pretty small guy, and humans have a lot of blood in them. Vampire or not, your capacity isn't that high. Usually, you simply drink until you're full and bottle up the rest for later in your Hydro Flask®.

In the moment, though, you consider your agreement with Jake. The whole point of this team effort is for you to drain the body for him, leaving it as cold and lifeless as possible. So even after you feel a heavy pressure start to build in your stomach with each gulp, you continue drinking and drinking until the blood runs dry.

When you’re finished, you let the limp body fall to the floor, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and sitting back against the couch. As you shift position, a deep, rumbling burp escapes you without warning.

“Fuck, 'scuse me,” you mutter, covering your mouth. You groan as you feel your meal settling inside of you. You may have overdone it.

“How are you doing, then?” Jake asks. For his part, he simply watched you do your dirty work without comment. Now he stares at you with fascination, and you think you detect a slight flush to his cheeks. He looks a smidge concerned, too, gazing at your abdomen.

You look down. Your belly is... straining comically against your button-up.

“I'm good,” you sigh. “Fucking fantastic, holy shit. That was great.” You hiccup slightly, which makes your stomach slosh like a jug. “Sorry, damn, I forgot how embarrassing this part was.”

Jake just makes a humming sound and re-crosses his legs, still watching you. “What’s embarrassing?”

“This,” you gesture down at yourself. “It's been forever since I drained someone dry like that, so I got a bit carried away. Hopefully he's all ready for you, though?”

Jake smiles brightly, looking over the body on the floor. “Looks it. Really, you have no idea how convenient this is for me. I can't wait to get a hold of his lovely ribs!”

“U-huh,” you nod. You gently cradle your stomach between your palms, trying not to move too much. You’re a little flustered about nearly exploding out of your shirt in front of your date, but he’s an ancient primordial death creature who collects bones, so he’s probably seen weirder. You try not to let your embarrassment show; just act cool about the whole thing.

“You sure you're alright?” he asks. “You look fit to bursting.”

“I'm sure,” you tell him. “Just need to… deal with this for a moment.” Jake tilts his head at you, inquisitive, so you explain further. “I’m completely stuffed, and on top of that, I tend to swallow a _lot_ of air trying to drink blood. Haven’t perfected my technique, exactly. So after a huge meal like this, I need to… chill out and rub my stomach to help things settle.”

“Fascinating,” Jake says. He won't stop staring at your distended balloon of a belly, resting heavily in your lap. You finally cave and unbutton your pants, dignity be damned, and sigh in relief as you let out another small burp.

“Sorry about this,” you apologize again, “I know it's not very pretty—”

“Are you kidding?” Jake exclaims. “I think it's rather impressive, and more than a little arousing.”

“Oh,” you reply dumbly. “Really? That’s flattering.”

“Sincerely. I love the way your insides stretch.”

“Thanks,” you gulp. You should find that remark disturbing rather than arousing, but you can’t help but think about your insides stretching around a certain something else. Christ, It’s only the second date—you should really at least finish your joint murder before you try to get his dick in you.

“Can I touch?” he asks, shifting in his chair as if to stand.

“Huh?”

“Your terribly overworked stomach. Can I feel it?”

“Sure,” you say, flushing. “You don’t want to clean the dead guy up first and do your bone thing?”

“There’s no hurry,” he says, waving a hand. “He’s not going to rot away in the next five minutes. I’m more interested in you right now.”

Jake makes his way to the couch, stepping over the body on the ground. He settles next to you and you turn a little bit to face him. You take your hands off your belly, using them to prop yourself up, and nod to Jake. He lays two careful hands on the sides of your stomach.

“Gosh,” he whispers, “looks painful.”

“Nah,” you say, “just uncomfortable. Pain receptors and stuff are much weaker for undead like me.”

Jake’s long fingers explore the whole bloated expanse of your middle, pressing down lightly sometimes to feel the give. His hands are cold, but he’s still touching you through your shirt, so it doesn’t bother you. He rubs over the crest of your belly, then pats you gently. “How does it feel, then, if it doesn’t hurt?”

“Just… tight,” you reply. “I mean, it feels like I’m full of liquid. Everything sloshes around when I move.”

Jake hums in understanding. You swallow with embarrassment as a loud gurgle churns through you, more than loud enough for Jake to hear.

He holds a hand to your belly as it grumbles, then presses his palm into an especially noisy spot below your navel. After a deep rumble, a satisfying burp squeezes its way out of you.

“O-Oh, excuse me,” you groan, covering your mouth.

Jake seems delighted. “Wow, can you do that again? It’s a beautiful noise.”

“You’re so weird,” you laugh, brushing hair out of your face. You try to force up more air for him, but only manage a wimpy little burp. “You’ll have to help if you want more big ones, dude.”

“That I can do!” he smiles, and begins circling his hands all over your belly, applying pressure to the tight and tender places. You moan as he works over you—an embarrassing moan, but he seems to like any kind of noise you make. You work up two more deep, airy burps and a handful of small ones with his assistance. You hope he doesn’t notice that your dick is half hard, covered mercifully by your stomach but still clearly outlined against your boxers beneath your open pants.

After one last wet burp, he pats your belly and stands back up. “Best clean up this mess before I put it off any longer,” he says, prodding the dead body with his foot.

“Yeah,” you say, a little out of breath.

“I’ll be back in a short while. Feel free to touch yourself while I’m gone, you know. No need to wait up. We’ll get you to full mast again in short order when I’m done.”

If it’s possible for a vampire to really turn red in the face, you totally turn red in the face. Of course he noticed your dick. You stutter out a halfhearted, “I uh- I don’t need to-”

“No, please,” he says, “I want to see what you look like when you’re spent. And I never mind a little _boner_ , haha.”

You manage a weak laugh. He crouches down, slings the body over his shoulder with a grunt, and flashes you a grin before lugging it down the hallway. You assume he’s got a murder basement, or something.

Fuck. No sense in arguing with an ancient, possibly malevolent entity. At least you can jerk off without looking at a gross dead dude now.

With one hand on your stomach and another on your dick, you moan quietly to the ceiling while you wait for Jake to come back. It’s been one hell of a second date, and somehow you feel like it's only going to get wilder.

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: complete lack of ethics, murder, violence (cronus character gets bit and dies), dead body, blood drinking, bloating from blood drinking, burping, belly rubs, belly noises, unbuttoned pants, tight shirt, dirk gets hard, mention of masturbation at the end (though not described bc I got lazy). 
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!! Let's hear it for vampire dirk cracking open a cold (warm) one with the boys (boy)!!!
> 
> Also, I would be very remiss for not acknowledging the ever-captivating [Bones of Black Marrow](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14692911/chapters/33950472), ultimate progenitor of weird-monster-jake-who-loves-bones. An amazing fic, and a much longer read than this one! Check it out!


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